Happy Place

My weight loss has slowed to a trickle; around a pound per week. I’m creeping up on what for me is the magic threshold: less than two hundred pounds. I’m at a place, weight wise, I haven’t been in years.

And, I’m happy.

Michelle has said many times; the surgeon operated on my stomach but the result was in my mind. I have spent years lurking around the back of the room. I’m in the back row of every picture taken in the past twenty years. Even as my career took off in the late nineties, my personal confidence lagged. It’s easy to be confident in the corner office while hiding behind a big desk and assigned authority, but out in the real world, it’s harder to hide.

Weight issues, which translate into confidence issues, permeated virtually every aspect of my life. Every decision, whether consciously or sub-consciously, was weighed against how I’d look, who I’d meet, were there going to be stairs, how far was parking, where was the nearest exit? The more I slipped into obesity the more withdrawn and antisocial I became. It came to the point where I was perfectly comfortable staying at home. Eating became replacement for virtually all other forms of life experience.

A funny thing happened on the path to significant weight loss; I found myself. It started before surgery when I faced my reality and finally accepted responsibly for my predicament, and has continued every moment since. I am not perfect. I am a work in process, but I’ve reached the place where I can look in the mirror and I am at peace. At this point in my journey, peace is a deeply satisfying place to be.